Leo & Irene
by Revan5
Summary: Leonardo is a bright but never-quite-healthy teenager who fatefully meets the legendary Teresa of the Faint Smile. This sets in motion a far different life, and little does Leo know that years later he alone might change Irene Quick Sword's fate...


**Leo & Irene**

* * *

It was a bright, sunny day, and Leo was busily sketching away to his heart's content. He was a 15-year-old boy from the village of Murten, had curly, blond hair, was pretty skinny, and wasn't known for doing strenuous exercise. This of course was due to his bad heart, which would act up anytime he started breaking a sweat. The other boys liked to rough-house, wrestle and play tag, but unable to join them. Labeled a social outcast, Leo had taken to drawing and studying the world around him.

Of course though, like any 15-year-old boy, there was a girl he very much liked. He was drawing her on his sketchpad in fact. She was not very far away from his perch on a bench in Murten's town square. The silver-eyed female in question was wearing an alluringly tight gray uniform that made his weak heart skip more than a few beats. Adding to his fascination with her was her steel pauldrons, tassets and gauntlets, which, combined with the enormous sword she wielded made her look both tough and beautiful. Her cape only made her seem more beautiful.

The long-haired, silver-eyed beauty's name was Stephanie, which was all he knew about the local claymore girl. Like all others of her kind, she gave off a mysterious vibe. He spared a last glance at Stephanie, who was seated near the central town fountain on a stone bench and was half asleep. Seeing that she was about to start napping, Leo pressed onwards with his drawing of his crush, oblivious to the bustle of the town market around him.

That was until a blond-haired head came into his vision as Stephanie leaned over the sketchpad minutes later.

Stephanie peered at the sketchpad and commented, "Hmm, I like how you drew my armor, but could you make my boobs a bit bigger?"

Leo found himself unable to manage a response. He'd never been so close to a girl as physically mature as Stephanie, and his feelings were both of intoxicating glee and terror that he might embarrass himself before her.

"I mean, other than that," Stephanie vainly continued, "this looks great. Oh, and could you clean up the lines around my armor?"

Stephanie proceeded to deliver a varied rant on perfecting his sketch of her. As it turned out, Stephanie was something of a perfectionist, demanding clean lines, perfect lighting and coloring and more as he kept frantically drawing. He was getting exasperated by her demands as he silently changed things when she reminded him why it was he had a crush on her.

Stephanie, using both hands, pushed up her bosom and remarked of the sketch, "There, you've got them a lot better now, don't you think?"

Leo could only manage to murmur in awe, "Yeah."

He was far too busy crossing over his legs to hide his growing lust for her to manage much more.

A deep male voice interrupted, "Number Sixteen, I have orders for you!"

Stephanie's head bolted upwards and turned, as did Leo, to find the source of the voice. There, standing not more than ten feet away was a middle-aged man in dark robes with large, creepy eyes.

Stephanie walked over quickly and saluted.

"Orsay, sir, I take it we've got more requests from towns to kill Yoma?"

Orsay replied, "Not today."

Stephanie's face changed into a confused mask, "Sir?"

Orsay whispered at a volume Leo could barely hear, "You are being dispatched as part of a team. Teresa of the Faint Smile has gone rogue."

Stephanie gasped, "What, but why?"

Orsay, spared Leo a dubious glance and murmured, "I'll explain later."

Stephanie exchanged a last glance over her shoulder at him before. Leo sighed as she walked out of sight and into the dense Murten crowds with the strange man. It was the one thing about the Organization he had never understood; why, if claymores were so powerful, didn't they order each other around rather than have humans do it for them?

With the object of his desire gone, Leo sighed, sat up, and walked down the cobblestone streets towards home. On his way he used a few Beras to buy himself a tasty bit of bread as a snack. He was watching his favorite creatures, birds, and was munching on the bread when a familiar, dreaded voice rang out.

"Leonardo, you damn lazy boy, get over here!"

Leo looked up to see his balding, middle-aged uncle Thomas on the top of a small porch. Thomas was not physically imposing, but he was strict, and thanks to owning the nicest hotel in town, annoyingly proud and arrogant to boot. His simple brown trousers and gray shirt were further proof of his uncle's poor background.

Leo hustled up to the porch, heart beating a little too fast, "Yes, uncle?"

Uncle Thomas grabbed him by the ear, "How many times do I have tell you to come home by noon? Do you think the hotel's floors wash themselves?"

Leo winced, "No uncle."

His uncle let go of his ear and snatched his sketchpad, "Leo, what the hell's this? I told you that you could go down to the town square till noon to play with the local boys. And here I find you drawing pictures of a claymore, long after noon and with no excuses!"

Leo whispered, "Sorry, uncle."

"Well, I'll make certain you don't do this again," Uncle Thomas remarked as he tore Leo's colored sketch of Stephanie in two.

Leo screamed, "No!"

Uncle Thomas scoffed, "Bah, what do you know of the world, boy? Drawing art and studying plants and animals is no way to make a living! Just remember that you're living and working here because I promised my sister to take care of you."

Leo mustered enough courage to object, "But there's more to life than just running a business!"

"For the love of Rabona, Leo, you make me want to tear my hair out," his uncle huffed.

Leo almost laughed; his uncle had almost no hair left to tear out anyways.

"Why would you draw a claymore? Don't you remember what happened to your parents and family? They were all killed by Yoma, and you want to draw half-Yoma monsters? The damn things were so nefarious they dragged away your little sister Deneve."

Leo blurted out, "Stephanie isn't a monster!"

Uncle Thomas sniffed in amusement, "How amusing, my nephew has a crush on the local claymore. Get your head in order boy; they're monsters underneath their pretty façade! If you paid more attention to my business lessons I would feel far better about you inheriting the hotel. Now get, and I had better find you washing the third floor hallway when I get back from the bank."

Leo could only sigh as he watched his uncle walk off. After all, he had no desire to inherit the hotel, even one as nice as his uncle's. Leo fervently hoped Stephanie would take care of this rogue Teresa and come back so he could draw her once more.

* * *

**2 weeks later…**

His uncle spent the next two weeks haranguing him while he did his work at the Murten Hotel, the largest and finest in town. Of course, his uncle being the fool he was, there were plenty of ways to doodle, sketch, and write without notice. For years he had recorded notes on architecture, engineering, sculpting, painting, anatomy, botany, geology, and mathematics. These he stored in a cabinet he had made with false floorboards to fool his uncle.

He didn't have a formal education, but he always liked to think those who pushed beyond the bounds of books and did new things were the real scholars. Unfortunately he had something of a procrastination streak, so his voracious creativity pushed him on from completing old things in favor of new. Plus he had always been fascinated with claymores, a subject his superstitious uncle would rather was never mentioned at the kitchen table. It was enough for the people of Murten to brand him as an oddity.

Leo was walking back from church with his uncle when he heard a commotion in the town square. Unfortunately a tall woman in a black cloak was blocking Leo's view as his uncle held back.

"Oh god," Uncle Thomas murmured. "That's a Yoma!"

Up ahead was some sort of brown-skinned monster Leo had never seen before. It looked vaguely human, but had nasty, predatory teeth and long, vicious claws that seemed capable of tearing a man apart. His family had died at the hands of a Yoma, but he'd been visiting his uncle when it had happened, and thus never seen one. No trace of his cherished little sister Deneve was ever found, while his parents were left without intestines according to those who had found their bodies.

The woman in front of him was talking distractingly to a red-headed little girl in a similar cloak, "If the town finds out what I am, we'll have to leave. Understood?"

The red-headed girl nodded.

The cloaked woman continued her questioning of the girl, which was bizarre with a Yoma so near, "If you'd stayed behind, you might have slept in a nice, soft bed for once. That's okay?"

The girl nodded again. All was made clear a moment later to Leo, as the woman threw off her cloak. Standing before him, mere feet away, was a claymore of considerable height and beauty. She had long, flowing locks of hair, and her strides exuded a quiet, haughty confidence. She carried in her right hand a massive sword nearly as long as her legs and torso together.

Leo and many others at once shouted in reflex, "It's a claymore!"

An older man shouted at Leo, "What's she doing here?"

Leo shouted, "I don't know!"

A woman cried out, "Oh, the child!"

Leo finally got a good glimpse of a dark-haired boy being held hostage by the scruff of his collar by the drooling Yoma.

The claymore sighed in a haughty, confident voice, "And here I was ready to relax…and you've ruined that."

The drooling, hideous Yoma gurgled as it turned to face its opponent. The red-headed little girl just in front of Leo watched, her body tense.

The claymore, wearing a scowl, hissed, "You're quite a nuisance."

Leo gasped as the Yoma let go of the boy. It charged at superhuman speed straight at the claymore. She moved at similar speed, dodging below and to the left. She jumped forward, swinging her sword with one hand as the Yoma belatedly noticed it was about to miss its target. It never got a chance; the claymore's sword promptly sliced it in half at the chest. It fell, chopped in two, its purple blood sprayed all over the cobblestones.

Leo's uncle gasped, "Wha?"

The claymore flung the blood off her blade and with a "kachak" sheathed her blade in its holder upon her back. The people gathered around let out a tremendous cheer, which Leo noticed seemed to unnerve the claymore.

Leo just barely heard her murmur, "Uh, what?"

One of the town's young men rushed past Leo to shake the claymore's hand, "Thank you! I didn't think you'd help us! You're our savior! How can we possibly thank you?"

The claymore, wide-eyed, said, "I don't need thanks, a stranger dressed in black will…" She trailed off, which confused the local.

The young man dressed in white trousers and a brown, sleeveless jacket replied, "Uh, excuse me?"

"Err…forget it," the claymore murmured.

Further away father and son reunited in a heartfelt moment, which distracted the attention of the claymore as she looked over.

A male villager objected, "But that would be—"

The wavy-haired claymore interjected, "Forget it, I was just passing through." She then made a hasty reconsideration, "Well, a place to stay…would help. We'd like a rest from our long journey. How about it?"

Leo jumped forward to volunteer out of gratitude, "Why, of course! We'll prepare our best room for you! You saved our lives, please stay as long as you like!"

The claymore had a surprised look on her face as she murmured, "Uh…that would be helpful."

Leo's uncle wasn't objecting at all, which was nice, although he suspected it was because his uncle saw a good business opportunity by enhancing his local reputation. Leo was leading the claymore and the girl accompanying her towards the Murten Hotel. It was a beautiful, red-brick, three-story hotel, and Leo had to admit his uncle was rightly proud of it.

He turned to ask, "Can I ask what your names are?"

The little girl answered before the claymore could object, "I'm Clare, and this is Teresa."

Leo shuddered inwardly; he was hopeful the name was just a coincidence with the one rogue claymore Stephanie had been sent to deal with.

* * *

Teresa and Clare spent much of the afternoon relaxing and noisily chatting. Leo heard some laughing, but he was too depressed to share in their enthusiasm. It couldn't be that his dear, vain Stephanie was dead, could it? He was mopping the floor in the first-floor hall when he heard the door open. Leo glanced around the hall corner and saw a lovely claymore enter the building.

She had straight, long, silver-blond hair, elven ears, a pointy nose, large pauldrons upon her shoulders, and had her sword sheathed upon her back. Her cape fluttered as she entered, her armored boots and gauntlets clinking and clacking as she walked in.

Uncle Thomas uttered a surprised, "Eh?"

She walked right past his mustached Uncle Thomas and began walking up the stairs, apologizing, "Forgive the intrusion."

The tall claymore disappeared from Leo's sight up the hotel's grand stair as his uncle objected, "Hey, you can't just—"

A smaller, short-haired claymore entered the hotel with a big bag of what looked like money and handed it to his uncle, "This is for our room."

Uncle Thomas opened it and counted, "Oh, uh, wait, it's too much!"

The younger-looking claymore smiled as she clutched the hilt of her sheathed claymore and took it out, "Keep it, and think of it as rent for the whole building."

Upstairs a set of slashing and smashing sounds rang out, which shocked his uncle, "Hey, wait, what's going on?"

The claymore paid him no mind as she walked along looking at the ceiling, "Let's see, sounds like they're right about…here!"

The claymore stabbed into the wooden "thunk" as her sword easily cut through the timbers. Uncle Thomas was gasping in shock, unable to muster words of objection in the face of such intimidating force. A moment later they heard a huaaahhh", and suddenly through the windows Leo gasped dozens of bricks from the hotel's front façade fall into the street.

Uncle Thomas finally managed to blurt out, "What…what are you doing?"

The claymore considered him briefly, "We're here to kill the rogue claymore, Teresa of the Faint Smile. Don't worry old man, there's enough money in that brown bag to pay for the damages twice over."

Without even sparing him another word, she walked to the front door, twisted the door knob, and walked out onto the front stoop.

Uncle Thomas was about to speak when she began talking to seemingly no one in particular, "Oh my. The plan was to sneak up from behind, but she isn't even trying to hide."

Leo crept around the corner and noticed two claymores facing each other in the street. One was Teresa, with Clare just beside her, while the other was much shorter and had a deadly earnest look about her. Leo's heart sank; Stephanie had failed after all, and he would never get to see her again.

The claymore in the doorway kept up her strange commentary, "She's up against Teresa of the Faint Smile. Does she really think she can win by attacking her head-on?"

Leo saw red-headed Clare scurry away from Teresa to the safety of the street's edge. Although Leo couldn't hear Teresa, it appeared Teresa and the other claymore facing her were having an exchange of words. The shorter claymore shifted her sword backwards in preparation of fighting. Teresa regarded the newcomer nonchalantly and said something inflammatory, for the next moment her opponent was sprinting with lethal intent straight at her.

Teresa's opponent smashed her blade into Teresa's, driving Teresa back with the force of her charge. Teresa countered by pushing her opponent's blade off her own and making a nasty swing. The shorter witch jumped out of the way, and the fight passed in and out of Leo's view.

The next thing he saw was Teresa blocking a slash at her back with a superb downward move of her sword along her back. Teresa then stabbed upwards, but her opponent dodged to the left. With a tremendous clang, their swords met once more as they came face to face. Leo crept up to the window-sill as his uncle watched in mute terror.

Teresa's opponent made a series of slashes, but Teresa dodged or parried them all. It was an impressive piece of skill Leo had to admit, and even the way these two moved was different from how Stephanie did. The shorter warrior shifted her massive sword back and swung with astounding speed. Teresa met her opponent's horizontal slash with a vertical one of her one, the clang of their blades upon each other causing Leo to flinch while his uncle jumped back.

The claymore in the doorway commented, "Oh my."

The shorter-haired opponent of Teresa didn't give up however. Instead she jumped back, and within moment jumped again and with incredible force and artistry slashed down as her body fell back towards earth. Teresa met the attack by falling to one knee and laying the flat of her blade horizontal above her face. Their blades met with a terrible crash as Teresa's opponent landed a few feet away in a flurry of dust.

Teresa pushed her opponent's blade up with great strength, a determined look upon her face as she made a fearsome horizontal slash at her smaller opponent. It met nothing but air, as the other claymore had leapt above the slash with bare moments to spare. Teresa's face nearly met with that of her opponent's as she landed, and the smaller warrior made a piercing downwards stab. This Teresa parried to one side and countered with a slanted slash that missed the backpedaling witch.

Teresa was clearly panting, and Leo even heard Teresa companion, Clare, shout out in alarm, "Teresa!"

Teresa and her opponent stood ten yards apart, Teresa panting far harder than her younger opponent but nevertheless didn't have a scratch on her. This time however Teresa was the one who charged forward. Teresa made a slash, which missed, and reacting on pure instinct barely parried her opponent's fearsome downstroke. Leo was utterly transfixed from where he was watching the fight in the hotel's lobby window. Teresa exchanged a few more blows with ease before one attack caught her off-guard.

Leo heard Clare scream out, "Teresa!"

At the last moment Teresa parried a stab straight at her head, and the two claymores exchanged a series of attacks that ended in ringing clangs of metal upon metal.

It was so loud Leo could barely hear the claymore in the doorway mere feet away exclaim, "Damn, this is absurd!"

A moment later Teresa went on the offensive, and with a stab nearly took out the smaller witch. This witch dodged right at the last moment, moving just fast enough to receive only a small scratch on the cheek. To Leo's eyes, the smaller witch looked bewildered and surprised, and Teresa kept pressing her advantage. Despite this, the younger claymore countered, and the two hardly seemed any closer to killing each other. They moved around at incredible speed near the hotel's entrance, each seeking the killing blow.

Then suddenly he saw an opening when the shorter witch missed an attack and stumbled, leaving her neck wide open. As Teresa dodged the witch's attack, her blade came down straight towards her opponent's neck. Leo scarcely saw a flash of movement, and a moment later Teresa's blade stopped just short.

The tall, silver-blond claymore from earlier had intercepted Teresa's blade, and was kneeling on one side of Teresa's opponent holding out her sword in a blocking stance, with Teresa standing opposite. Teresa looked surprised, but the elven-eared witch didn't let the moment pass. She slashed out, which Teresa dodged by jumping back. Teresa passed out of Leo's line of sight.

His only clue to the dangers was Clare's shout of "Teresa!"

Leo saw the claymore in the doorway take off as another was sent flying into the third-floor brick façade of the manor across the street. Despite being smashed into the façade, the witch still landed alive, her feet spread wide like a cat's.

Uncle Thomas cried out as the fight moved out of sight, "My hotel!"

A second later the ceiling where the sword had pierced it collapsed, sending one of his uncle's treasured cabinets crashing to its ruin mere feet from the middle-aged man. Leo heard the fight continuing outside as he and his uncle rushed up the stairs. The doorway to the room Teresa had been in was an utter wreck. The door was lying, slashed in two, upon the room's floor. The doorway had suffered dozens of sword slashes straight through solid brick, while the floor had suffered similar but more superficial damage. Well, except for where the cabinet had crashed through to the floor below. The bed here was precariously dangling on the hole's edge.

Uncle Thomas fell to the floor and wept upon surveying the horrendous damage to the finest room in the hotel. It took a long time until his uncle clambered to his feet with Leo's help and dried his eyes.

"Well, at least they didn't destroy the entire hotel," Leo said.

His uncle snarled, "Destroy? I won't have any business for a month! You fool boy, whose idea was it to have the claymore stay here?"

Leo backed up towards the grand staircase, "Now, uncle, I never thought—"

His uncle ranted, "Whose love of claymores made him ask her to stay here? It was you, you yellow-bellied, weak-hearted, whiny brat! Get out of my house!"

Leo gasped, "Uncle, please, you're just angry, don't—"

"I've had enough of your pathetic love of claymores! Get out of my hotel, and you can take the money with you!"

Leo fell backwards down the stairs as his uncle shouted, and somehow he stopped, his head still in one piece, at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes fell upon the brown bag as he gasped in pain. Leo grabbed it, rushed outside, grabbed a wheelbarrow, and rushed back into the hotel to his room. It was small and dank, but underneath its floorboards and false bottoms to the cabinet drawers lay his life's work.

These papers and journals he hurriedly dumped into the wheelbarrow, along with as much food and good maps of the island he could find. He had barely gotten everything in when he heard his uncle trudging down the stairs. Leo rushed out of the hotel, his heart pounding, as his uncle hurled yet more verbal abuse at him. He was now on his own, with a rucksack of survival gear, a little food, tons of his parchment journals, quills, and no idea of what he was going to do.

He bought himself plenty of bread and realized in shock that he had enough money to buy himself a horse eight times over. He bought himself two, a short sword for show, since he had no intention of harming anyone, and even a tent. With his name sullied by his association with the confrontation, he was given some ambiguous looks from the villagers as he left the village. There were no signs of either the claymores or Clare.

Given his bad heart, he had managed to convince his uncle years ago to allow him to try riding so that he could move quickly from place to place. He packed his gear onto the sides of both horses, secured it tight, and then jumped up into the saddle and set off. In a way he was relieved; now he wouldn't have to hide his passions from anyone, and he could go wherever he wanted. A light rain shower dampened his jubilant mood as he came to a large rocky clearing.

He was about mid-way through expanse of bare land when the other horse he was pulling behind by its reins reared up.

"Come on," Leo snapped, "what's the matter with you?"

Leo jumped off the mottled gray horse he was riding and with annoyance walked over to its brown-and-white companion.

He petted it on the nose, which calmed the brown horse down, but its eyes were transfixed straight ahead. Leo looked and gasped in shock.

The headless body of Teresa was lying there, in the rain. There were some of the other claymores' bodies not far away, the ground torn up not far from where they lay. The claymore who had handed his uncle the sack of money Leo was now carrying lay dead before him. Another, with shorter hair, lay little more than a sword's distance from her.

It was easy to tell what had done in both; a clear hole was evident in their foreheads that went out the back of their skulls. Most people were sickened by such sights, but Leo had a habit of dissecting animals and had gotten used to such things. He didn't know what weapon was capable of such work, but it had killed them in an instant, that much was clear. The rest of their bodies were scarcely touched and showed only evidence of minor sword and concussion wounds.

It was when Leo heard a fit of hacking that Leo's heart nearly seized up in shock. As he calmed down his weak heart he turned to find another claymore further away. It was the tall claymore from earlier with the silver-blond hair and elven ears. She was lying upon her right side, a pool of dry and drying blood below her head. Her mouth was blood-red from the blood she'd been hacking up. Leo noticed her left arm had been completely severed at the shoulder and was lying not far away.

The claymore gasped, "Help…me."

Leo rushed over and examined her wounds. He gave her a canteen of water, which she drank from as he held it over her lips and poured. An examination of the witch's wounds found they had not closed yet. He hustled over to his survival pack and found a sewing needle. He grabbed a soup bowl, poured in a little water, added soap, and cleansed the needle.

The claymore gasped, "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning the needle; I discovered you won't get infections if you use soap before sewing through flesh," he explained.

She merely nodded, and a second later he began sewing her wounds shut with great care. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but her wounds were still exposed, so closing them was key to survival. She twitched as he sewed but otherwise stayed silent. He managed to sew the last wound on her shoulder shut when she asked, "What's your name?"

"I'm Leo; short for Leonardo," he replied. "What's yours?"

The witch answered in a commanding female voice, "Irene."

* * *

**2 weeks later…**

Leo dropped the brown leather outfit at Irene's feet in camp, which was surrounded by a dense woods and singing birds.

Leo sighed, "It's the best I could find for a tall female like you."

Irene was still wearing her Organization outfit, which was missing its entire left sleeve. Irene hadn't said what had happened, but she hadn't objected to traveling west with him either. She had ditched her ruined pauldrons at the site of battle, along with her tassets and gauntlets. Irene had recovered enough strength the day after he'd saved her to hop aboard the other horse with ease.

For some reason Irene wanted to leave the fight scene immediately, and never mentioned why. Then she'd asked him to buy her a new outfit so she wouldn't have to wear her old one. He'd gone into the nearest village, Ticheri, and bought her the only thing he thought would fit. Unfortunately, given how it exposed her upper legs and left little to the imagination, he was sure she'd reject it. Thus he'd also bought her a large cloak to don as well.

Irene looked at the outfit for a moment and then handed him her giant, heavy sword, "Here, put this over there."

He did as asked, and then she looked at him expectantly.

"Leo, I need your help," Irene said coldly.

Leo, flustered, asked, "With what?"

"I need you to help me undress and change," Irene instructed.

Leo was trying his best not to blush like mad as she continued, "I only have one arm Leo, so I can't take my shirt off easily, which is why I need you to do it."

Leo tried his best to ignore how close she was to him as he came closer. She showed him where to grip her shirt. With a smart pull from both of them, Leo found himself before a topless woman of both astounding beauty and horrific scars. Irene's belly was blackened and pitted with scars and bits of scaly skin. The rest of her features were in contrast near perfect in Leo's eyes.

She pulled down her pants as if it didn't matter that he was feet away. Leo was gasping in shock as she ditched the last of her pants with surprising nonchalance. He'd never seen a woman nude, let alone a claymore totally in the buff. It was more than a little shock to his system, and Irene seemed to notice.

Irene made a small grin, "What's the matter, never seen a woman nude?"

Leo was too embarrassed to answer.

Irene commented, "A boy your age should have seen at least a few nude women in his time."

Leo didn't know how to answer this, so he kept silent. She began putting on the outfit's upper part. The leather pulled taut against Irene, and he was surprised to find it was a superb fit. Leo helped with the cloak, and while fastening it tight, brushed against the silky skin of her upper right arm. He tried to keep his mind from wandering as he fastened tight the rest of Irene's new outfit. Once finished Irene sheathed her sword and jumped upon his gray horse.

Leo jumped upon the brown-and-white horse and asked, "Where to now?"

"Someplace hidden," Irene said.

They trotted down the road at good pace for half of the day, with Irene only saying a little from time to time. Leo for his part watched the forest's birds fly by overhead; he'd long dreamed of flying like a bird himself. In fact, he'd already drawn a glider that might let him enjoy flight himself, but of course he'd never had the time or money to try building his design.

Leo's mind wandered elsewhere and he realized that even after weeks of riding together, Irene had not yet opened up to him. He was hoping that would change, but he didn't know if it would ever happen. He snapped back to reality as they arrived at a covered wooden bridge. It crossed over a modest river, and as they neared it Irene jumped off the horse. Leo got off his horse as well and led the horses forward by the reins. He followed Irene out of the shady forest and into the blinding sunlight.

"Well, well, who would have known you'd be helping a deserter," a familiar female voice rang out.

Standing at the bridges near edge was Stephanie and three other claymores in full combat attire. They seemed to be expecting Irene there.

"Stephanie," Leo shouted, "what are you doing here?"

The vain claymore brushed out her hair as she replied, "We heard Number 2, Irene, had deserted, but I never would have believed it until I saw this."

The claymores as one drew their swords while Irene stood motionless.

"It's over Irene," Stephanie said. "Accept your fate for desertion."

Leo noticed a small grin on Irene's face as they approached on three sides, blades drawn and pointing in Irene's direction.

"Stephanie," Leo pleaded.

"Shut up boy," Stephanie shot back. "This isn't about you, this is about the deserter and in our Organization the only fate for deserters is death!"

Irene grinned, "Don't worry about me Leo, I'll be fine."

"You arrogant prick, you're missing an arm," Stephanie snarled. "This time I'll be promoted into the single-digits for sure when I take your head!"

"You can try," Irene countered, "but that's as far as you'll get."

The four claymores attacked at once, but Irene drew her sword at incredible speed. Leo's eyes barely caught the moment when Irene parried Stephanie's stab at her head, then superbly countered two blades aimed at her neck, and then with a fourth slash chopped off the hands of one claymore.

This claymore let out a blood-curdling scream of pain, but Irene paid it no mind as she spun and ducked under Stephanie's latest attack. Irene incapacitated one of the other claymores with a sickening diagonal slash across their chest. They fell to the ground, gasping in pain, as their blood pooled around them.

Stephanie attempted yet another attack, which Irene parried to her left side. Stephanie stumbled, off-balance, and Irene didn't hesitate for a moment as her downstroke cut into Stephanie's back. Stephanie fell to the ground screaming in pain as Irene spun around to intercept the last assailant's blade.

Irene pushed their blade up, and with a superbly weighted strike, knocked it from their hands. They smiled nervously at Irene, who moments later simply knocked her out with a tremendous downwards bash of her claymore's flat side.

Leo was only able to murmur, "Holy crap."

Irene commented, "We'll have to kill them so they don't follow our route. All claymores are trained trackers after all."

Leo objected, "No, please don't kill them, there's got to be some other way!"

"Then tell me one!"

Leo noticed a small rowboat tied up at the bank with plenty of rope inside it.

"I've got an idea," Leo said, pointing to the boat and the rope.

* * *

Stephanie woke up with the peculiar sensation of drifting, almost as if she weren't on dry ground. Her eyes opened to find a peculiar sight of wood and the sky being upside-down. She tried to move and then noticed she couldn't; her hands and feet were firmly tied with rope, she was upside-down, and her mouth was gagged with cloth.

Her head hurt something awful, as did her right back for that matter. She noticed the three other claymores from her team unconscious beside her, each similarly bound. Abruptly the boat slid to a stop, and Stephanie desperately rolled herself over. A claymore was standing at the boat's edge, her pretty face regarding them with what looked like bemusement.

"My, my, look what the current brought downstream, Ermita," she commented in a haughty voice.

This particular claymore had long straight hair that fell halfway to her waist, and had a lanky look to her that suggested she was a recent teenage recruit.

Stephanie noticed a man in black, his mouth and lower face covered in black like the rest of his body. He pulled the cloth out of her mouth.

Stephanie gasped, "It was that bastard Irene!"

Ermita chuckled, "There are some days of being a father I have to admit I find quite funny."

Stephanie fumed, but was unable to move her tied-up limbs yet, "This isn't funny! That bastard must have figured out how to tie us up. We can still take her if we hurry upstream to the Ticheri Bridge!"

Ermita sighed, "The Ticheri Bridge is thirty miles upstream. There's no way we'll catch onto her tracks in time."

Stephanie declared, "Fine, then help us get untied!"

"Let this be a lesson to you Galatea," Ermita said, pointing at all four of them. "The next time you feel like charging off after a stronger opponent, remember how Irene trussed these four up like a bunch of turkeys for the Shinrou Feast!"

Ermita walked off laughing, out of Stephanie's sight.

"Galatea, please," Stephanie pleaded, "help me out!"

Galatea smiled at her, "Can I ask you something?"

"Alright, fine," Stephanie agreed with annoyance.

"Why didn't you follow orders and wait for me and the new number one, Lutecia?"

Stephanie snapped, "We didn't have time to wait for you, the Number Seven, let alone wait for Lutecia!"

Galata smirked, "Looking for glory were we?"

Stephanie pleaded, "Galatea, wait, don't leave!"

Galatea said a few more words, "I don't have time for fools that knowingly take on more than they can handle. You took on the ex-Number 2, and you hoped, what, that somehow you and Numbers 23, 30, and 35 could handle her? Sounds like you were out for glory, and I make it a point not to help glory-hunters."

Galatea walked off as Stephanie shouted, "Come on you vain bitch, help us out! I'll never let you forget this! Come on your coward, get back here!"

Galatea however was long gone, leading Stephanie to curse the coming hours of struggle to untie herself and the others with a simple, "crap."

* * *

"This is it," Irene remarked, "what do you think?"

The lake valley was certainly secluded, being surrounded by mountains on nearly all sides. He noticed the lake was drained by a fast flowing stream of considerable size. Plenty of woods were around, and they had come to a halt in a picturesque clearing by the lakeside.

"I think it's magnificent," Leo gushed. "You want me to chop firewood while you set up camp?"

"Don't bother," Irene said while walking up to a large tree on the clearing's edge. "Stand back Leo, and I'll show you how I cut firewood."

Leo removed the horses and himself a good distance to watch. Irene had a quiet confidence in her stride as she approached a large tree's trunk. Irene drew her sword, and with a single slice, slashed right through the trunk's bottom. Even as it began to fall to Irene's right side she was slashing away at incredible speed.

Much of the tree landed whole, its landing sending shockwaves through the ground. However the trunk's bottom had been well and truly diced up into firewood size chunks.

Irene turned, "You see? Get a fire going and set up camp. We'll start building a cabin tomorrow."

Leo asked, "But what will you be doing?"

Irene unfastened the cloak from her shoulders and replied, "Taking a bath."

With deft skill, Irene unfastened her outfit's top and stockings, her clothes dropping to the ground in moments. Leo could only stand and stare in shock as Irene nonchalantly turned towards him.

"Seriously Leo, you really need to get used to a little more nudity," Irene remarked. "When I get back I want to see you haven't been slouching off."

Pale-skinned Irene walked to the water's edge, dipped a toe in, and then with great skill dove in hands first.

* * *

**6 years later…**

"So here it is," Leo announced triumphantly to Irene, who was wearing a much-mended version of the outfit he'd bought for her years prior.

Irene remarked, "What exactly is it supposed to do?"

The contraption she was examining with bemused interest was unlike anything he'd ever built. It had a single cotton wing shaped similarly to that of a bat's. Its supports were made of strong, light wood, and below the wing was attached a pilot platform with wheels to help it move.

"It's supposed to fly," Leo boasted.

Irene scoffed, "What, right off a cliff?"

They were about two hundred yards from a cliff-face that overlooked the ocean a thousand feet below. The area was perfect because it had a downwards slope, which allowed Leo to build a wooden launch ramp right up to the cliff ramp for maximum speed.

"Exactly," Leo replied. "Then I'll fly it to that island over there."

He pointed to a modest island miles offshore blessed with plenty of trees, greenery, picturesque scenery, and even had a visible waterfall falling down a cliff edge in its center.

"Leo, this is crazy, even by your standards," Irene snapped, exasperated. "Why do you have these insane ideas about flying? No one has ever flown, and no one ever will. Don't you even think about testing this!"

Irene pressed a finger into his chest to emphasize her point.

"Look Irene, I know you're concerned, but I even added a rudder and foot controls to adjust the lift from the left—"

"I said no," Irene said firmly. "This is to impress me, isn't it?"

Leo sighed, "I was hoping you'd like it."

Irene relented, "I just don't understand you Leo. How can someone so brilliant want to take a risk like this?"

"I've always wanted to fly," Leo explained. "You know I can do this if you let me."

"I can't let you," Irene said with quiet concern.

Leo asked, "You love me too much to see me hurt, don't you?" He put a hand upon her right arm, "Please Irene, if you don't want me to do this, just tell me you want us to be together."

Irene knocked his hand off her arm, "Stop! You know full well we'd only hurt each other if we allowed our feelings to lead us down that path. Besides…"

Irene trailed off, looking in another direction.

Leo, puzzled, asked, "What's the matter?"

"I sense two yokis, and the familiar one is in pain."

* * *

Night had fallen by the time Irene returned to the cabin holding an unconscious smaller claymore over one shoulder. The girl had suffered a grievous diagonal wound across her chest, the wound open from her left shoulder to the right side of her waist.

"Oh god," Leo exclaimed as Irene laid the unconscious witch upon the bed.

This claymore was missing much of her right arm, and her left hand appeared to have been reattached.

"How bad is she?"

Leo examined the claymore and noticed both legs had only been recently cut in half and reattached as well.

He made his assessment, "She's lost a lot of blood, but if I close up her chest wound she'll live."

"Then do it," Irene ordered. "When you're done, I want you to head for the nearest town and return with some meat."

* * *

It had taken several hours to sew the witch's wound closed, but she seemed to be quickly healing. Leo left Irene with the smaller claymore in the cabin and departed for the nearest town, Ticheri. He retraced their path from six years prior and was about to head for the pass when he noticed movement on the mountain to his right.

Leo took out the small hand telescope he'd built for a closer look. At first he didn't see anything unusual moving amongst the fir trees. He shifted his view right, and once again didn't see anything. But then he caught of brief gleam of metal when he put the telescope down far to the left. He hurriedly took another look, and felt his heart twitch upon seeing something he'd always dreaded: a lone claymore with one eye headed straight towards where Irene and the wounded witch were.

"Shit," Leo cursed.

"Come on girl," he said, turning around his gray horse, "we've got to go back as fast as we can!"

He soon lost sight of the claymore on the mountainside as he pushed his horse as fast as she could go. His heart was racing dangerously fast, but he'd always promised himself he'd do anything to save Irene, including risk death by cardiac arrest. It took half a day hard riding, but he finally crossed over a foot-hill and into sight of the grand lake.

He pushed the horse hard, and it began to tire and wheeze in complaint. Leo didn't care; the only thing he cared about was saving Irene.

* * *

Irene was without both arms; she'd given her sword arm to Clare, the girl who'd taken on Teresa's flesh. She was overlooking a cliff with the lake behind her, hopeful that Clare would make better use of her sword-arm than she had. The girl's yoki was receding with every minute now, further and further away. Irene heard the clink of an armored boot behind her.

A cold female voice interrupted Irene's quiet contemplation, "It feels like another was here. Is she gone?"

The Organization had sent an executioner after all.

Irene answered without turning around, "Yes, she's gone. She left just a little while ago."

The cold-voiced witch replied, "Well, it doesn't matter. You're the one I came for. You've hidden yourself well all this time. Not even normal people would find you here, and after all these years of suppressing your Yoma aura, it's almost vanished. It couldn't be sensed. It was a mistake to practice the quick-sword technique. Because of that, you're radiating Yoma energy like a normal warrior."

Irene sighed. She'd known this was coming from the moment she saved Clare from the murderous single-digit warrior in the woods.

Irene turned her head to see her executioner, "May I ask your name?"

The witch answered Irene's question, "Rafaela, Number five in the Organization."

The witch Irene glimpsed had a peculiar appearance, with her left eye covered up with a star-shaped scar. Rafaela had her hair mostly short, but her front bangs were long and hung over her forehead, her nose was sharp and pointed, and her keen right eye suggested this was an experienced witch with many years in the field. It was exactly the sort of person Irene expected the Organization to send, except Rafaela seemed far stronger than her rank.

Irene couldn't help but ask in curiosity, "What is that scar? Something from before you became half Yoma?"

Rafaela held out her sword as her cape fluttered in the wind, "Is there any reason I should answer someone who is about to die?"

Irene didn't reply, so Rafaela continued, "Irene the deserter, the Organization has ordered your execution. I heard you'd lost an arm an arm, but it seems you've lost both. That's unfortunate…bad luck for you."

Irene allowed herself a small grin, "Not really, fate follows its own plans. As strong as you are, why have you stopped at Number 5?"

Rafaela coldly answered, "Sorry, but I've got no reason to answer that either. Would you prefer a—"

The sound of a galloping horse caused Rafaela to turn around in surprise. Leo was galloping like hell straight for her upon his gray horse, seemingly intent on running Rafaela over.

Irene shouted, "Leo, no, don't do it!"

Rafaela remarked, "I won't let you interfere in this boy."

Only when Leo and the horse were within ten yards of Rafaela did she kneel down and position her sword like a spear. The horse, seeing the imminent danger to its life, frantically attempted to stop. It dug in its front heels, and in horror Irene watched as Leo was sent flying face-first. He passed straight over the kneeling Rafaela, arms flailing.

But by strange coincidence his airborne trajectory had him headed straight for Irene. Unfortunately, without any arms to resist, Leo was able to grapple her as he flew and knock her off balance. Irene stumbled backwards as Leo continued flying right on by and over the cliff.

Irene calmly accepted whatever fate had in store for her as she fell backwards off the cliff. The world seemed to be passing slowly by as she fell straight towards the water a hundred feet below. She hit the cold water feet first, as she'd done a complete flip. Irene contentedly let herself drop ever further into the depths until she found herself standing upon the bottom.

Moments later white-shirted Leo swam over to her and grabbed her by the torso and kicked hard for the surface. They just barely made it as Leo's chest began to convulse from the shock in temperature. Irene gasped for air as Leo did likewise, although it was clear he was nearing cardiac arrest. His veins were beginning to pop out as he kept swimming.

Irene pleaded, "Leo, please, just let me die and save yourself! You'll kill yourself if you keep swimming in this water much longer!"

Leo didn't have the stamina for words. Instead Irene found herself kicking to help him haul her along. They reached a raft near where the lake drained into a fast-flowing stream. Leo pulled her out and onto it, and delirious, barely managed to haul himself out. Irene willed her arm into re-growing as Leo staggered to his feet and grabbed an oar.

He clutched his chest with his left arm and pushed upon the oar with another. Irene saw her arm slowly begin to grow outwards, but it was taking excruciating effort, and she'd almost surpassed her limit. The raft was slowly moving towards the stream when Rafaela came sliding down the nearby foothill's less steep southern edge.

"Leo, you can't save me," Irene said as Rafaela began to run towards them across hundreds of yards of flat, open ground.

Their only barrier to immediate attack was about a dozen feet of water, the deepest water underneath the raft being a mere six feet deep. The raft slowly moved forward, and the current began pushing it faster towards the large, rapids-filled stream. She knew what he was aiming to do, but Rafaela was closing fast. If they didn't make it to the fast-moving stream soon, she'd be as good as dead.

Leo's chest began to convulse less as he pushed harder on the oar, this time with both hands. Rafaela had just reached the water's edge when Leo finally got them into the fast-moving stream. Irene kept re-growing her arm, its flesh slowly and steadily coming back.

The journey downstream was turbulent, as they crashed through rapids and Irene finally found her right arm to be of use. Its still-growing hand gripped onto the raft's side as water splashed upon her and Leo both. Irene looked back and noticed in alarm that Rafaela was a quarter mile back, gripping a log tightly as she too navigated the rapids.

"Leo, she's still coming, I told you, you can't—"

"If you die, then I'm dying with you," Leo interjected. "Besides, I've got one trick even your 'friend' won't be able to match."

Despite the cold water splashing upon her hair, Irene had never felt warmer in her life. She had only just finished re-growing her arm's skin when the moment came to an end.

"We jump off once we reach the pool," Leo said.

Irene turned her head and saw they were fast approaching a large, shallow pool near a waterfall's stony edge, and understanding dawned a moment later. Irene spotted Leo's glider lined up on its downwards-sloping wood ramp a few dozen yards to the right of the pool.

Leo directed the raft as far to the right as possible, and then they jumped out onto the embankment. Rafaela was literally only ten seconds behind as they raced to the glider's side.

Leo shouted while gasping for breath, "Get…get in!"

Irene climbed into the pilot's seat as Leo kicked the wood blocks holding the glider upon the sloped runway. Its wheels began to slowly roll as Rafaela jumped off her log and onto dry land. She unsheathed her sword and began sprinting straight towards them.

Irene shouted, "Hurry Leo!"

Leo gave the glider a quick push and then hopped into her lap as it began slowly rolling. He grabbed the control stick and began pressing and adjusting the foot pedals as Rafaela got ever closer. The runway was a mere 200 yards long by Irene's estimation, and it looked like Rafaela would catch them before they made the plunge.

Suddenly the slope grew a little steeper and the glider accelerated, and Rafaela was forced to sheathe her sword. She put on an extra burst of speed, and with a lunging dive, grabbed onto Leo's left arm as her body was dragged behind the glider . Leo struggled to get rid of Rafaela's grip, and already she was having an effect. The glider was drifting left as Leo was pulled left. Irene noticed he was holding the control stick at an angle to the left and frantically straightened it out.

Then, with desperation, she aimed a kick at Rafaela's hand before Rafaela could cause them to stop short of the cliff. Irene's left foot connected, and Rafaela let go and rolled away. There were bare seconds to shout in triumph, as the cliff's edge was fast approaching.

As they approached and Leo got their roll straightened out, it appeared they didn't have enough speed, although the glider was becoming lighter in the wind.

Holding on for dear life, they reached the cliff's edge with Leo screaming, "This is it!"

* * *

Rafaela barely stopped the roll towards the cliff's edge with her sword when she saw the fools fly right over it a dozen yards away. She gasped for breath for a moment and then hopped to her feet to see their final doom.

She walked over and glanced down. Whatever the winged contraption was, it was still heading towards the waves a thousand feet below. But then its descent angle became more gradual, and Rafaela could hardly believe her eyes. With scarcely ten feet to spare, the device leveled out and then abruptly rose at great speed.

Rafaela exclaimed, "What sorcery is this?"

The winged contraption, with the strange man and Irene still inside, soon reached the nearly the height of the cliff it had taken off. It began leisurely flying towards a distant island three miles away by Rafaela's estimation. The winged vehicle didn't appear like it would make it, but then suddenly it hit a thermal and began rising higher.

"No, there's no way," Rafaela blurted out.

She stood there watching for nearly half an hour, with the glider finally passing out of sight just as it finally approached the island.

Rafaela knew no one would ever believe her if she told them what had just happened. She'd be executed for sure if she didn't report Irene dead. But then a thought struck her; Irene had left her sword behind, which would be all the evidence Rubel would require to prove a kill.

"Well Irene," Rafaela sighed, "perhaps you are worthy of not killing. You'll still be dead…on paper."

* * *

The final descent was hairy, as the glider hit a patch of turbulence. Leo struggled to regain control, but they were fast approaching a line of trees.

He shouted at the wide-eyed Irene, "Brace for impact!"

They hit the trees with a jolt, both wings soon sheared off by the raw force. The rest of the glider made a bump descent into the trees, smacking off of one trunk and bumping into branch after branch. Leo closed his eyes as they picked up speed. He felt a jolt a moment later.

Irene was still with him, and they were both breathing hard, still alive. Leo looked down and noticed the ground five feet below; they'd been caught in a tree trunk mere feet from the ground.

A moment later the glider's frame fell apart, and they both fell to the ground on opposite sides of the tree trunk. Leo was breathing slowly, feeling the grass between his fingers, never having appreciated being alive more than now.

"Are you ok, Irene?"

Irene, breathing deeply as well, exhaled, "Somehow."

Leo slowly got up and found himself in a sun-spotted forest. Ten feet away was a slowly moving, modest stream, while on its opposite bank—

Leo shouted in joy, "Berries!"

He jumped over the stream and picked off a dozen blueberries.

"Look Irene," he smiled in pure joy, "I found lunch!"

Irene dusted herself off, stood up and remarked while looking up at the remains of the glider wedged into the tree above, "Leo, I just want to say one thing."

Leo jumped back across the stream to put a few blueberries into her outstretched hand.

"Yeah?"

Irene waved her index finger, "That WAS the most stupid, dumbest, craziest…"

Leo flinched and closed his eyes at the coming rant.

"…most courageous and brilliant thing I have EVER seen someone do," Irene finished.

Leo opened his eyes, pleasantly surprised, "Um, so, you want to pick a few more berries for lunch?"

Irene wrapped her arm around his waist, "I had other ideas."

Leo blushed, "Irene, I'm—"

Irene pressed a finger to his lips, "We'll have lunch after I give you a proper thank-you."

Irene promptly tackled him a moment later, their licks locked in a passionate embrace a second after that. Within moments, the belt on Leo's trousers came flying off.

* * *

Meanwhile, miles away on the mainland

Clare felt a twitch in her right arm and looked at the arm Irene had given her. For the briefest of moments, Clare wondered if something had happened to the arm's former owner.

* * *

**Dedication**

I wrote this on behalf of my buddy Leo, who is a great fan of Claymore and suffers from a heart condition. In thanks for all his work on my behalf (see gooloo0-o on Deviantart for his gorgeous cover for my latest epic-length fanfic, "The Silver-eyed Empress"), I wrote this story about what really happened to Irene from the perspective of the the teenaged boy whose life one day crossed with hers by chance. I hope you enjoyed it!


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